


Acquit

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sam says sorry for spying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: For this week’s chapter during [the silmread group reading of LotR on tumblr](http://silmread.tumblr.com/post/157152871625/5-a-conspiracy-unmasked), wherein Sam admits he’s been spying on Frodo for months.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The bedroom in Crickhollow isn’t _that_ different from the one he used to have in Bag End, no doubt thanks to Merry and Fatty, but it’s still _above ground_ , and that’s hard to get used to. There isn’t enough slope to the walls, and the round window’s too high-set, too close to the stars. The curtains are beige and don’t keep out all the light. But this is the only night he’ll have here anyway, and Frodo does his best to sleep. 

It’s difficult. There’s still too much weight on his mind. But he’s also dead _tired_ from both flight and fright, and he’s finally there, just at the edge of a dream, when the door creaks open. He’s too heavy to bolt upright, but he stiffens. For a moment, he fears the Black Riders have somehow made it silently through the house, but then he hears familiar footsteps—he recognizes the gait. He dares to open his eyes, peering through the semi-darkness, and a large blob plunks onto the edge of his bed.

Sam whispers, “Are you awake, Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo mumbles, “I am now,” and he can practically _hear_ Sam’s guilty frown. To stop him from stumbling into apologies and bolting, Frodo stifles a yawn and asks, “What is it?” The next yawn is too persistent and bubbles out of his throat. 

Sam politely waits for it to finish, then sighs miserably, “I couldn’t sleep, Sir. Not with getting off so easy as I did. I meant no harm by it, but I do still feel badly for spying on you.” 

Frodo can’t help a little smile. It’s difficult to ever be truly cross at Sam, when he’s as sweet as he is. Frodo never would’ve suspected him without the group confession. Merry and Pippin, and even Fatty, watching him all this time and picking up hints of Gandalf and the ring, he supposes he can understand. But he wouldn’t have guessed that his gentle gardener ever crossed that boundary.

He’s strangely glad he was wrong, and he feels his own guilt for it, for what it means. He shouldn’t be relieved that Sam’s roped in now, but he is. He says, “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Sam mutters dejectedly, always the hardest on himself. “I will try to make it up to you, honest—”

“You’re already doing that by coming with me.”

Sam’s weight shifts, and his larger hand drops onto Frodo’s, curled at the top of the blankets. As always, Sam’s incredibly warm. His skin’s soft, despite all the hard work he puts it through. Frodo shifts his fingers to intertwine with Sam’s. He quietly admits, “To be honest, I’m not sure I could’ve left alone anyway. ...And I don’t think I could pick a better partner to come with me.” No one so loyal, so steadfast, so _strong_. Sam squeezes Frodo’s palm. 

He says, “I’m still sorry, Sir.”

Frodo hums a long exhale, verging on another yawn. Then he gives Sam’s hand a little tug and decides, “The best apology would be letting me get a good night’s rest.”

To which Sam stammers, “Of course, Sir, goodness, don’t know what I was thinking coming in here so late...” But he sort of trails off as Frodo lifts the blankets to toss around his lap. He takes the hint quickly and squirms down. There aren’t quite enough beds for all of them, and Sam was probably on the couch, but there’s no sense going back now. Besides, it might be the last time they get to sleep in a proper bed for a good while.

The dimples of Sam’s smile are just barely visible in the dim starlight. He settles happily onto Frodo’s oversized pillow, and Frodo snuggles closer for the warmth and the comfort. When he closes his eyes, his dreams are less troubled than they’ve been for too long.


End file.
